The train rattled as they sped through the night, the darkness outside the windows all-encompassing in contrast to the bright lights of the train car. Although the train was rather more packed than normal, considering the fair crowds, it was surprisingly quiet—most of the occupants were worn out from the evening's fun.
Makoto sat quietly at Haruka's side, his gaze focused on the window opposite them. After the turbulent evening, Haruka was glad for the silence. It wasn't quite an easy silence, per se. The residual tension from earlier hung like a thin film in the air between them, nearly invisible but constantly on the edge of awareness.
Nagisa's words continued to play through his mind. Why does Shigino-kun bother you so much?
He's always hanging off of people, Haruka thought grumpily. That has nothing to do with Makoto in particular. Kisumi does that to everyone, including me. It's just annoying.
Then it wouldn't bother you if anyone else was doing that to Mako-chan?
This question stuck in Haruka's head, refusing to budge no matter how hard he tried to erase it. Did it matter?
With a feeling of discomfort in the pit of his stomach, Haruka realized that he hadn't been okay with it at the club. Watching Makoto dance with that girl… Haruka breathed heavily through his nose, becoming a touch irritated. What could he say? Maybe he just was easily annoyed by overly-touchy people.
Then again, what about when he heard about that girl's confession? Hadn't that put Haruka on edge as well? Or even just knowing that Makoto's classmates knew more about him that Haruka did. He clenched his hands, trying to force the thought from his mind.
Did he fuck some chick?
Truthfully, Haruka had never even considered that as a possibility. Makoto always turned down the girls—and guys, supposedly—that confessed to him. Now, of course, it was easy to see why. Haruka's frown deepened at that thought, stomach squirming nervously.
So then why did the thought of Makoto hooking up with a stranger bother him so much?
Haven't you given him an answer yet?, Rei had asked. But Haruka wasn't sure if he had an answer to give.
Steeling himself with a deep breath, Haruka glanced at Makoto, still sitting quietly by his side. Makoto caught his gaze, smiling peacefully at him, and suddenly Haruka couldn't breathe. He hesitated for a moment, willing himself to smile, say something, do anything to show Makoto that he wasn't mad. But the words wouldn't come.
Makoto waited patiently, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side. Embarrassed, Haruka looked away again. Coward, he thought accusingly.
Did he love Makoto?
Haruka grimaced, lips curling into a frown. That was like a trick question. Makoto had always been there, like a sturdy dock he knew was always waiting at the shore. Haruka relied on him. So how was he supposed to differentiate his lifelong dependence on his best friend from romantic interest?
"Now approaching Iwatobi Station," a voice announced over the speakers. The train eased to a stop, the muted din of the crowd rising a notch as passengers shuffled about.
Makoto stood beside him, stretching his arms over his head before turning to face Haruka. "Ready?" he asked, holding out his hand. Haruka hesitated only a moment before grabbing it, looking pointedly toward the opening doors as Makoto helped him up.
Makoto led the way, trailing the other Iwatobi residents as they disembarked the train and headed out into the night. He repeatedly glanced back at Haruka to ensure they hadn't been separated. Once they reached the main street, he fell in step next to Haruka.
They didn't speak as they walked, the warm night wrapped snuggly about them. Obviously Makoto had realized that Haruka needed some room to think, though he somehow managed to keep the silence from being awkward.
That's just how it is, Haruka thought stubbornly. Makoto and Haruka. It was a simple as that.
Yet the thought rang too close to what he had told Nagisa earlier: our relationship isn't like that.
How could their friendship just be like "that," without being like "that"? What did "that" even mean?
Just friends, Haru told himself. That's all.
But wasn't Kisumi "just friends" with Makoto, too? Shifting his shoulders uncomfortably, Haruka risked another glance at Makoto walking next to him.
Alright, so maybe the reason he hated Kisumi was because of Makoto after all. Maybe it was because he hated the thought of Kisumi taking Makoto away. The threat had always been there. Every time those hands closed around Makoto, Haruka couldn't help an irrational, momentary fear that they would drag Makoto away. It was, Haruka realized with a jolt, the same numb, sickening feeling he had had at the club, watching the girl drag Makoto into the crowd.
Haruka didn't want anyone to take Makoto away. He couldn't stand the thought of anyone being around Makoto when he wasn't.
Suddenly, Haruka listened to his own thoughts. That … well, truthfully, that sounded a lot like love, didn't it? It truly did seem that what the two of them had was more than just friendship.
But didn't being in love also imply other ... things? Things like dating, and everything that went with it? Haruka may not have had much of an interest in all of that growing up, but it hadn't stopped him from overhearing his male classmates' conversations. He knew what was involved. Didn't being in love mean not only having feelings for the person, but also feeling some level of physical attraction? Wanting to do things together?
With a rising sense of dread, Haruka struggled to push those thoughts away. It was all so complicated. Everything that their friendship wasn't supposed to be.
Besides, Haruka had never really thought of Makoto in that way. He had never really thought of anyone in that way.
And even if Haruka did love Makoto, then what? Even if Haruka told him, what would that accomplish? Things between the two of them wouldn't be the same. And that's all Haruka really wanted, after all—for things to just stay how they always had been.
Makoto slowed beside Haruka. Haruka followed suit, realizing with surprise that they had already reached the steps leading to Makoto's parents' house.
"Have a good night, Haru," Makoto said gently, the smallest touch of uncertainty still lingering in his gaze.
Haruka felt a twinge of guilt. He had no idea what to say or do to convince Makoto that things were alright, to explain that he was sorry. For a rash moment Haruka considered simply telling him that he loved him too.
But the words froze on his tongue, weighing heavily in his mouth. How could he say something so important without even knowing himself whether it was true? He might ruin everything. And that was simply unacceptable.
"Haru?" Makoto asked, eyebrows lowering slightly in concern.
Haruka snapped his mouth closed, letting out a small sigh through his nose. "Good night, Makoto," he said calmly, willing his friend's concern to evaporate.
Eyebrows still lowered, Makoto's mouth twisted into a disappointed grin, a brief flicker of pain visible in his green eyes despite the dim night around them. His expression ripped through Haru like a dagger, puncturing the air from his lungs. How on Earth was Makoto capable of using a smile to convey every range of emotion, including pain?
But then Makoto's face dissolved into his usual, patient smile. "Right," Makoto said, turning toward the stairs. "I'll see you tomorrow, then."
Haruka watched, speechless, as Makoto disappeared into his home, the door clicking shut behind him.
With a grimace, Haruka studied Makoto's familiar front door. This. It was this right here that he had been afraid of. Why could he never say the right thing? He wasn't Makoto—he didn't know how to use words to make things better, how to smile away concerns. Chest aching, Haruka turned away from the Tachibana's home and started up the steps toward his own house.
He unlocked the front door and slipped off his shoes, pausing in the dark entryway as his thoughts became more and more muddled.
Bath, he thought tersely. I need a bath.
Without a second thought he bee-lined for the stairs, throwing on the hallway light as he went. Maybe sitting in the water would help clear up his thoughts.
In the bathroom, he tugged off his socks as he started the water running for the tub, flicking his fingers through the hot stream to check the temperature. Just the sound of the water rushing from the pipe gave him a small sense of ease, and he paused to take a deep breath. Then he slipped out of his pants and shirt and stepped into the tub, heedless of the miniscule amount of water that had yet to collect in it.
Sighing, he let the water wash down his knees and collect around him, slowly filling the tub. Despite the heat of the night outside, the water's warmth was soothing, caressing him and easing the stress from his muscles. Haruka's head fell back against the wall, eyes closing in content.
For a minute or so, he simply allowed the water to fill in the crevices around him, slowly completing him while his thoughts drifted aimlessly. When it reached his chest he turned off the spout, then leaned back into the makeshift cocoon.
Makoto.
Haruka's eyes slowly drifted closed again, a touch of tension returning to his shoulders. He needed to figure something out, one way or the other. Perhaps in the morning he could just apologize. "I didn't mean to push you away. You just took me by surprise. I'm not mad."
Haruka sighed, putting that train of thought to rest. Even in his head the apologies felt flat—mere excuses to cover up the true problem. He shifted in irritation, taking a moment to savor the way the water swayed around his movements, gently rocking with him.
He needed to do something, at least. Find some way to return matters to some semblance of normal. Rei's words still lurked in the back of Haruka's mind, whispering to him. But Haruka ruthlessly shoved the thought back, sucking in a stubborn breath. He couldn't give an answer if he didn't have one. Makoto deserved better than that.
A selfish corner of Haruka's mind acknowledged that it wasn't just about Makoto. Haruka simply wouldn't tolerate it. He would not risk making things even more complicated than they already were. So far, every time he had tried to talk things out with Makoto things had gone either askew or terribly wrong. Trying to talk this out wouldn't solve anything.
Would it be better to pretend nothing was wrong? Haruka considered the idea slowly, turning it about in his mind. Maybe he simply hadn't given the situation enough time to shake itself out. Maybe…
No. Try though he might to convince himself otherwise, Haruka was acutely aware that he was lying to himself.
With a frustrated growl he loosened his feet, allowing his weight to drag him further into the water until only his eyes hovered just above the water's edge. This was impossible. What if there was no right answer? Had things already gone to Hell in a handbasket? Despair flooded him, pressing in on all sides. Haruka quickly ducked his head into the water, the water's firm pressure fighting against the encroaching hopelessness.
An eternity of awkward silences and broken smiles… Haruka slowly opened his eyes, allowing them to adjust to the wet filter. A bubble escaped his mouth, rippling toward the cooling surface.
Maybe he should just tell Makoto that he didn't feel the same way. Just the thought of Makoto's reaction made Haruka's chest tighten painfully. But perhaps it would be a small mercy. He didn't know, after all, whether he felt the same or not. Haruka had never had any interest in dating anyone, but if Makoto did, then…
The thought stopped Haruka short, and he quickly surged upward, breaking the surface. Air rushed into his lungs, deliciously curling in his chest.
Did Makoto think that way? Haruka had never really stopped to consider it. It was one thing to acknowledge that Makoto loved him. But that Makoto might think of him like that…
We're not like that.
Haruka groaned in frustration, feeling the weight of that nebulous, secretive word. Had he been wrong?
Just because Haruka had never considered it didn't mean Makoto hadn't. Did Makoto want that? To kiss him, touch him...
Suddenly Haruka felt exceedingly ridiculous. Makoto was a college student. A normal college student, unlike Haruka. More likely than not, that probably was something Makoto wanted.
Well, there was his answer, right? If he couldn't give Makoto what he wanted...
Did he fuck some chick?
Haruka froze, anger suddenly boiling in his blood. That... he wasn't okay with that. Just the thought of Makoto with some faceless girl, doing—
Haruka felt physically sick, an image of Makoto hovering over a woman—the taught, rippling skin of his abdomen pressing against pale skin—rushing into his mind before he could banish it.
He splashed now-cool water into his face, struggling for air. It meant nothing. He simply didn't want anyone taking his best friend away.
A new image quickly inserted itself into his mind, Makoto lying naked, broad hands gently running up Haruka's bare skin, his sweet mouth descending...
The bathroom door rattled open and Haruka yelped in surprise.
"Oh, sorry!" Makoto said quickly, a concerned frown on his face as he stepped into the room. "Didn't mean to startle you—I called out from downstairs."
Haruka stared, dumbfounded, at the apparition before him. Makoto was in his PJs, a combination of a thin tank top and loose basketball shorts that clung low on his hips. The fabric of his shirt stretched across his broad chest and stomach, a thin veil over what lay behind.
"Haru?" he asked, eyes crinkling in worry. "You okay?"
Haruka shook himself, slipping lower into the water as he mumbled, "Yeah. Fine."
Makoto's frown persisted, though he glanced down as he reached into his shorts pocket. "You forgot your phone," he explained, pulling it out.
Haruka blinked in surprise—he had forgotten that he had passed it off to Makoto on the train ride to the fair.
"Right," Haruka said, struggling to keep his voice even as Makoto put the phone down on the counter. "Thanks."
"No problem, sorry to come so late," Makoto replied sheepishly, glancing toward the clock. It was approaching midnight at this point. "I just wasn't sure if you might need it."
Makoto's frown returned as he surveyed the bathroom, finally seeming to take everything in. "Haru, how long have you been sitting in there, anyway?" Makoto asked, though from the look in his eye Haruka could tell that Makoto had already guessed.
Haruka shrugged, carefully taking quiet, even breaths.
Makoto sighed and shook his head, eyebrows lowering in exasperation. "C'mon," he said, offering his hand. "It's late."
The familiar gesture only made Haruka's chest tighten once more, squeezing the air from his lungs. This wasn't the time to get distracted. He still didn't have an answer for Makoto, and he needed more time to think.
Haruka reached out, Makoto's broad hand curling around his own. Then, with a sturdy power that still managed to take Haruka by surprise even now, Makoto helped haul him up.
Water streamed down Haruka's skin in tiny, rushing rivulets, dripping loudly back into the tub below. Makoto eyed Haruka's jammers, sighing in exasperation as he let go of Haruka's hand.
Haruka was suddenly very aware of Makoto's attention on his shorts. Here he was, standing only inches away from a man who had confessed to him, wet and wearing nothing but clinging, glorified underwear. Haruka could feel a flush beginning to race toward his face, and panicking he quickly strode past Makoto to grab his towel from the counter, running it through his hair to hide his face.
This was preposterous. They had spent the majority of their lives together wearing nothing but swimsuits. How many times had Makoto helped him from his morning bath? Wasn't this exactly the same? It meant absolutely nothing.
Exactly the same, except for Haruka and his buzzing awareness of Makoto standing behind him, wearing precious little more than Haruka himself. More images flooded Haruka's mind, and he scrubbed the towel more vigorously through his hair to knock them away.
"Well, I guess I'll head out," Makoto said quietly. Haruka spun around, hands stilling on his towel as he took in the sight of his friend.
It wasn't like that… was it? Makoto shifted, his chest rising and falling beneath his shirt, and Haruka's breath caught. He forced his gaze away, instead looking up toward Makoto's face.
Green eyes locked onto his own, and Haruka immediately realized he had made a mistake, drowning as Makoto engulfed his vision.
"Haru…"
Makoto's voice was low, rumbling from the depths of his chest in a tone that Haruka had never heard before. Haruka's eyes widened as the sound reverberated through him, resonating down every nerve as he attempted to force air into his lungs.
Makoto took a step closer and Haruka's heart spiked, slamming against his chest. He opened his mouth to reply, to say something, but suddenly Haruka didn't trust his voice or his mind to come up with a decent reply. His mouth worked wordlessly, eyes unconsciously running down Makoto's body and back up to his eyes.
Makoto paused, halfway between taking another step closer. His eyes narrowed slightly, brows pulling downward as he examined Haruka.
For a horrifying moment Haruka was convinced that Makoto knew. That he could see right through Haruka's eyes to the startling thoughts that ran rampant around his head.
"Haru."
He was still using that low, unsettling tone, causing Haruka's blood to pound furiously in his veins. This was bad. This was so, so bad.
"Thanks for bringing the phone," Haruka choked out all in a rush, the tension shattering.
Makoto opened his mouth, ready to say something, eyes still steadily focused on Haruka. "Is there…" Makoto paused, for once struggling to find the right words. "Is there anything else you need before I go?"
It was an opening, clear as day. Haruka panicked, unsure how to reply. There was no way to convey his thoughts—even Haruka couldn't make sense of them at this point. And if he said something wrong…
"No," he said quickly, busying himself with wiping down his arms. "I'm good, thanks."
The lies clanked around the room, glaringly conspicuous. Makoto held his gaze a moment longer, face pinched in an unreadable expression. Then, with a sigh, he smiled. "Alright. Well, night again."
He left, sliding the bathroom door closed behind him. Haruka stood frozen, waiting until he heard the faint sound of the downstairs door closing. Then, with a strangled groan, he sank to the bathroom floor, a parade of mental images relentlessly plaguing his thoughts. Cheeks heated deep red, his hands clenched into fists. A part of him wondered if this might somehow make things easier, but the rest of his mind knew: all this meant was that things were getting even more complicated and convoluted.
Haruka sat for a long time, struggling against the rising desire low in his stomach and the flush heating his cheeks. Eventually he took a deep breath and forced himself to get up and go to bed, hoping that sleep, at least, might give him a short span of temporary relief.
First off … I AM SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT. My life just about EXPLODED the past couple of weeks, and I'm only just now starting to get it under control. I seriously am so sorry that there was a month-long wait between these chapters (._.) Things are finally starting to settle down, meaning I should hopefully be able to wrap this up soon-ish. At this point, I'll hesitantly say maybe a chapter each weekend? If I can do more, I happily will, but for now I don't know if that'll be at all possible.
Starting with this chapter, we're getting into what I believe will be my personal favorite part of this fic. I'm at least really, REALLY looking forward to writing it x3 Nervous, self-aware, bashful Haru is quickly becoming one of my favorite things ever. After writing him as being more aloof throughout the first half of this fic, it's really fun to see the contrast and try to depict it. And oh so much MakoHaru angst x)
As a side note, I could totally see Haru being asexual. And honestly, I think that'd be wonderful to read/write. However, I suppose I've always envisioned Haru as being more of the type where he just doesn't think about it much on his own, but once he starts becoming more aware of Mako he starts to become more and more aware of his own needs. So I chose not to go the asexual route with this story. Just wanted to throw that out there, since I really hope no one will misinterpret the line "Didn't being in love mean not only relying on that person, but also feeling some level of physical attraction?" Obviously this is a narrow view of love, and I don't personally feel this way. It was more of Haru trying to keep himself in denial than anything else ;) Just wanted to clarify.
Oh, yeah, and do we know for sure whether Haru takes cold baths, or whether his baths start out hot, but he stays in them so long they get cold? I remember his cold baths being mentioned on the show, but I wasn't sure if the distinction was ever made. For the sake of this chapter, I'm going with him starting out with hot baths that get cold.
Thank you sooooo much for reading!